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Chapter 25 – Isolated

The next morning I was sitting at the table snorting some cocaine when Aslam walked into the kitchen after having shower.

“Did you manage to do pregnancy test?” he asked.

“No, I don’t have a car to go anywhere” I replied.

Aslam called a family doctor and made an appointment for the morning.

“He will do the tests and will not ask any other questions,” said Aslam

I just wore a pair of jeans and a tshirt and tied up my hair. There was no reason to doll up for the doctor I thought.

The doctor was ready to see us when we arrived. Amazingly we did not have to wait for hours. He asked us a few embarrassing questions. He asked me about my menstruation cycle. He asked us how often we had sex and when was the last time. I felt awkward answering these questions about sex to a stranger especially with Aslam sitting right there. Then he asked me to stand on the scale.

“You are severely underweight, what concerns me is you are showing clear signs of drug abuse, but that is none of my business, let us do the pregnancy test” said the doctor.

He then handed me a cup.

“What must I do with this?” I enquired.

“Go and pee in it,” said Aslam laughing.

This was going to be interesting and very challenging, to pee in a cup. I managed to catch some of it and brought it back to the doctor. “Leave it on the table by the toilet, the nurse will take care of it,” said the doctor with a smirk on his face. He then took some blood for blood tests.

“We are done, I will call you once we have the results. What still concerns me is the drug..”

Aslam cut the doctor short,

“thank you doc, keep us posted,” and we left in a great hurry.

Before Aslam dropped me off at the apartment, he stopped to meet the “foreigner” and a business associate. I was surprised to see that the business associate was my David. He was ravishingly handsome. We have been keeping in touch and he didn’t even tell me he was going to be in Joburg today.

David was Dahlia’s brother. He was here to finalise the details regarding all the laundering between Joburg and Durban. I didn’t hear anything they were saying. David always puts me into this hypnotic trance. Aslam noticed my staring. My phone started beeping

“Why don’t you go fucking home with him, stop drooling over this white guy,” messaged Aslam

Something started nagging at me about this whole deal. I then realized this was the same David that Faheem was worried about. They finally left and there went my eye candy.

“Stop being a slut in front of other man, you are embarrassing me,” shouted Aslam. I just kept silent. I was not in a mood for a bashing.

I tried to find out more about the deal and Aslam brushed me of saying the woman should just sit there and look pretty and not get involved in men’s business.

The doctor called in the afternoon. “You are not pregnant, Fatima.”

At least an abortion was out of the question. I was relieved that I did not have to decide to kill my baby.

“Can you prescribe some birth control bills for me,” I enquired. .

“I will send you the prescription. What is still worrying me is you have all the signs of cocaine addict..”

I cut the call immediately.

The loneliness was killing me. I had a husband that was always absent. Even when he was around he was not around. He was either on his phone on business deals or sleeping. I had all the luxuries I desired but I did not have companionship and someone to talk to. I started pining for David. Before I called him I came to my senses. David was trouble and I found it weird he was stalking me in Durban. It most probably was a set up or something from Dahlia.

Days, maybe weeks or even months passed. I was not counting. Those days that went past dragged and most of it was a blur. Drugs became my intimate friend. Aslam was hardly around. He only came to please himself and leave. He occasionally took me to a meeting with a client. All these places were just filled with drugs, booze and cheap women. Life was becoming boring and monotonous. I had no purpose. All I lived for was the next high.

My life was floating into a dark abyss of loneliness. I felt like I was drowning in a pit of emptiness. I craved people to talk to. I felt trapped in this apartment like the walls were caving in on me. This is what prison must fee like. Aslam would not even let me go to the mall to get the groceries and always go them delivered. I couldn’t leave. When he came home he would check my phone to see who I was calling and chatting with. I think he was also monitoring my calls and checking the bills to see whom I was messaging.

The drugs were not as potent as they use to be. The highs lasted for seconds compared to before. I had no one to talk to so I started talking to myself in the mirror. I actually broke the mirror. I hated what I saw. I was ugly and skeleton thin and my skin seemed to have aged. I felt isolated.

“You bitch, are you sleeping with other men, you slut. Since you came into my life it has been a living hell, I hate you. ” Aslam came storming into the apartment filled with rage, yelling like a mad man. He picked me up and threw me against the wall and then started choking me. “Today you are going to die.” I felt helpless and just surrendered to whatever was going to happen to me. I did not fight back. Aslam started punching me and when I fell to the floor he started kicking me. Blood was everywhere. I could not move. I found it difficult to breathe. There was an excruciating pain emanating from my ribs. I felt paralysed with fear that I messed my pants. I eventually passed out.

When I regained some consciousness I was alone and I was astonished to be alive. I screamed for help. I called for Aslam. No one answered. I crawled towards the coffee table where my phone was. It was extremely painful to get to that point. I felt lost and did not know whom to call. I dialed.

20 thoughts on “Chapter 25 – Isolated”

I am just so shocked reading this
Cannot believe that our young Muslim are doing drugs and drinking
Luving in the uk we see this so openly , through work etc the Muslims visiting pubs and drinking
Allah give everyone hidayaat and make it easy for parents etc
Thank you for posting
Love x

Slmz, is there a way of telling us which are actual events and which is the added masala? What is your relationship to the main character and are u a character in the story? I love this blog and I have now become addicted to the the addiction and I got other ppl addicted too. We want more posts daily… Lol

the author Mumtaz is not any of the characters portrayed here. The abuse is real. The drugs are real. The love triangle is real. The masala is the cosmetics and mainly adding more meat to the plot. We were just given a basic plot and we added some flesh to the story. I unfortunately do not know who the people are in this story. I did not even try and find out who they are. I don’t also want to know for Allah’s sake. It is best their identities are left secret and we all learn lessons from the path they were on. In the bigger scheme of things it doesn’t matter who the person is. At the end many have identified with this story and have seen their own lives in this. What is important we try and learn from this and protect ourselves and make dua especially our children are protected from this destructive path.

very sad! also fathima is still a child…….only around 17/18? and Aslam beats her up. an innocent girl who went on a study break to JHB, ended up falling into the grips of this monster. Men of today are really disgusting, an embarrassment to islam and society. Aslam keeps mentioning the praises of his first wife, but what about fathima…….she is someones daughter!!! under 21….a child!!! who will stand up for her and protect her honour? people like him need to be locked up and society need to point them out, as they are a threat to our innocent children, and woman. hopefully this blog will expose the haram ways of some men, and give courage to women who are in abusive relationships. hopefully it will also be an eye-opener to society to allow us all to spot the suble manipulative little ways in which abusive men like aslam operate, so as not to fall trap to their expensive gifts and spooning, when it all is a ploy to gain control and abuse you later. may Allah protect us all from this haram lifestyle and keep us with imaan amen.

also…when youth are on the righteous path as fathima was, we must give encouragement. and not make comments like you need to dress better to find a husband etc. why don’t we as adults praise and give credit to the youth when they are interested in deen and have a love for reading their namaazes on time. instead, at weddings, people look at the most fashionable girl as a wife for their son. and everyone wants to have a “smart girl” to introduce to their sons. this is where the problem stems. we need to stop contradicting ourselves and stop blaming society…..we are society!! we only have ourselves to blame.

she caved to the peer-pressure, not wanting to seem out or like a “granny” as told in the story, that is why she decided to “live a little”. that was a mistake, her biggest mistake was trusting the wrong company and having wrong friends. aneesa is not that innocent in all of this. and neither is layha! both of them told her to dress more provocative, aneesa took her together with her BF faheem to clubs and introduced her to drugs. what kind of friend was she? so its sad that fathima, a decent girl ended up this way….really aneesa and layha also need to take some responsibility. fathimas parents would not have allowed her to go to stay at layhas house, had she known the caniving, unislamic, disgusting ways of aslam and also layhas immature persona, as her bad advice may also have led to this young girl destroying her future. we must remember fathima is only 17 and layha is in her 30’s. aslam almost 40!!! they should have known better! fathima has been used by everyone in this story, by aneesa as a scapegoat to see her boyfriend, by aslam as someone to abuse to make him feel younger, and by layha, to get her marriage together, as she was no longer the one he beat up. the first time layha caught fathima with her husband, she should have immediately confronted her parents and they should have taken her back home………..not turned a blind eye and spoken to her as if they are the same age. fathima has a good heart, in the beginning of the story, she was the one always looking out for aneesa, worrying about her and hoping faheem treats her well etc. but no-one really worried about her, aside from her parents,……..and now layha when she matured up and came to her senses. this is a tragedy. where is faheem, the one who introduced her to drugs and who supplied her with it? nowhere to be seen…….busy planning his wedding now and life as a changed good boy! while fathima must sit with an abusive spouse! moral is choose your friends carefully in life.

Azra, your above comments are all so true. I like that you’re actually reading the story and highlighting the lessons to be learnt. Thank you!
It’s easy to read the story and be shocked and discuss it as “gossip” as one does when so-and-so’s daughter/son was seen at a club or walking around town “nangi.” What do we do going forward? How do we change our parenting styles or the advice we give our children, whether it be intentionally or subconsciously. Youth pick up on our actions. We can’t complain about the ills in society and then not show them the joy in other things.
My parents instilled a love for truth, respect and the Temple by simply taking me along and making it a part of our lives. Drug abuse was always spoken about in a realistic way – never as “I’ll kill you if you take drugs. Or no one will marry you if you dress like that.” Those are all empty threats and there are countless examples in society where these threats never hold true.
Modesty is instilled…not verbally threatened and forced onto a child. A simple example is allowing your child to dress differently on holiday. .It gives off the message that we simply dress modestly so people we know don’t see us inappropriately but it’s ok when strangers do. In reality it should be a way of life. The child gets mixed messages from their own parents..It’s small things like this.

Choosing friends is so important…my parents always had their friends over and we would go out as families. These were my first friends, as well as cousins. If a child grows up with that they will automatically know how to choose friends and feel uncomfortable with the wrong crowd. Of course peer pressure is very tough and we all went through it. For this we need open lines of COMMUNICATION between parents and youth. Don’t just say you’re there for your kids, physically BE there. Be at home when they’re studying, be at home on weeknights when they have homework. It was so comforting to me when I wanted to take a break and would just go to the lounge and watch and quick program or have coffee with my parents. The random troubles or stresses were always mentioned during these casual chats. It keeps parents aware even if they don’t have to get involved.
Allow friends to come home. My parents were and ways open to me bringing people home. They got to know my friends and even if they didn’t approve I was never forbidden from seeing them. They would mention their thoughts on certain friends and I had a chance to defend them if necessary. .sometimes it’s just a misunderstanding they have from what parents hear from other parents (sometimes it’s true and I would have to figure that out in due course) but because of an open relationship with my parents I could admit when I erred in judgement and did not have to stay friends just to rebel. My parents had the numbers of my close friends so if we went out there was always an alternative point of contact if need be (phones dying is a realistic problem..It doesn’t mean your child is dying but I do understand why a parent would stress out..lol )

Please don’t take this as a sermon but more my views on how I grew up and things that worked for my family.
Thanks for the blog. V interesting and topical.

as much as we can blame everyone for our mistakes at the end we all have to be accountable for our own actions and choices we make in life. Blaming others and making excuses does not solve any problems. Most of us just stuck with blame game and we never end up fixing our problems. A valid point and a lesson learnt is to make sure you and your children are surrounded but good company.

thank you “eye opening” for the response and comment :-). also to “confessionsofaddict” – I agree, we all are responsible for our own actions.
blame game wont help in getting one any further in life, nor aid to getting one out of a problem. However, that being said, we all need guidance in choosing careful company and not being influenced by peer-pressure. that is where the education bit comes in, to be in a position to identify right from wrong (with guidance from parents, good friends etc). the responsibility of us as parents, us as youth, us as ambassadors for islam are enormous. each of us are constantly influencing the people whom we come into contact with daily, whether it be at home, in the streets, at schools, at work…with our comments, talks, dressing, behavior.
the responsibility does rest with us all to guide each other and help each other if need be to remember our true purpose of why we are placed on earth. nobody is immune from falling off the straight path. we do not know how our condition would have been had we undergone the same exposure and company as fathima has. only through consistent awareness (remembrance of Allah included) dua and Allah swt mercy can we be saved from such a fate. even those who have gone astray, with Allah swt mercy, they will be guided to find peace and happiness inshAllah. there is always hope as Allah (God) swt is great and most merciful. Gratitude for what we have is also very important. we has human kind today have become a very ungrateful nation, never satisfied with what we have, and with the blessings our Creator has showered us with,and protected us from.

No one should ever feel that there is no way for them to turn their lives around. With every day, the chance of a new beginning awaits. just my own 2 cents….

What a load of hogwash! Too much masala not enough facts… If you gonna write something do it properly or else don’t do it at all. Drug abuse is not something to dramatise like your own soap opera, so people can start making punchat. It affects real people, real families. If you really are want to do something, give up your time & invest in your communities. RANT DONE! Now keep the abuse clean & mature.

lol, if only this was a figment of someone’s imagination. How I wish it was not true and a soap opera but unfortunately as unrealistic as it may seem to you this was someone’s life. This is someone’s story. We have added the cosmetics to make this story a bit more readable but the raw meat is real life..